


I Told You

by OxfordCommasRequired



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Everyone else is worried, F/M, Gen, Mild Language, Yona is a Badass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 02:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12572248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OxfordCommasRequired/pseuds/OxfordCommasRequired
Summary: “One thing you should know,” Hak said behind him. Banri turned around. “If you hurt Yona, you'll regret it.” His tone was matter-of-fact, almost off-hand, but the look on his face was a challenge.Banri just smirked back. “I'll keep that in mind.” Then he turned his back on Hak and waltzed away.





	I Told You

The bar was noisy, dim, and smelled sour like sweat and booze. Many of the tables were sticky from spilled drinks. The floor was even worse. Most of the patrons fit the atmosphere – ragged jeans and tees, leering grins for the short-skirted waitresses, steely glares for anyone else who looked at them too long. A few were dressed in casual business attire – jeans with button downs and blazers. Everyone else avoided them completely, which perhaps had to do with the hints of bulky metal beneath their jackets.

A couple in the back, despite trying to be inconspicuous, clearly did not belong. The man was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in dark jeans and a leather jacket that were far too well-made for the average income around him. He leaned against the back wall with his arms crossed, dark hair obscuring most of his face. He had a steely glare for anyone looking his way, too, but his spoke less of shouting and fists and more of a swift, decisive death.

The young woman next to him could not have been more his opposite. She was short and slender, with a sultry red dress to match her crimson hair. She sat at a back table, sipping a bright pink drink and smiling sweetly at anyone who looked at her.

Quite a few people did. With the short hem and deep V of her dress, she had plenty of pale, freckled skin to ogle. Most of them quickly averted their gaze when they felt her companion's chill-inducing gaze fall on them, but one was brave – or stupid – enough to keep grinning at her.

As he watched, she sucked the last of her drink down. Her red lips fell into a sinful pout. She said something to the man beside her, who answered with a few short syllables, without looking at her. She huffed and slid down from her bar stool, her skirt sliding dangerously high up her thighs before she adjusted it.

She sauntered up to the bar, leaning nearly horizontal as she hailed the bartender. As soon as her observer caught the smooth flex of her thighs and the curve of her ass, his decision was made.

He swiftly navigated the crowd and headed toward her table. The tall man in the leather jacket was staring off at a far corner of the room, oblivious.

He cleared his throat, drawing the other man's attention. “That dame with you?” he asked. He gestured over his shoulder, careful to keep his blazer covering his chest holster.

“Yeah,” the other man said shortly.

He frowned. “No, I mean – is she _yours_?” He emphasized the word, raising an eyebrow to make his meaning even more obvious.

The other man's eyebrows rose. “No.” His voice was flat, and his expression shifted to reflect it.

“So it's like that, is it?” he said knowingly, perhaps a little condescendingly. He stuck out a hand. “I'm Banri.”

“Hak.” He didn't take the hand.

“Good to meet you, Hak,” Banri said with a grin. “So you won't mind if I...?” He glanced at the redheaded woman, who was chatting easily with the bartender as he mixed her fruity drink.

Hak shrugged.

“You're a real pal, Hak my man.” He slapped Hak on the shoulder and started toward the woman at the bar.

“One thing you should know,” Hak said behind him. Banri turned around. “If you hurt Yona, you'll regret it.” His tone was matter-of-fact, almost off-hand, but the look on his face was a challenge.

Banri just smirked back. “I'll keep that in mind.” Then he turned his back on Hak and waltzed away.

He intercepted Yona just as she was handing her money to the bartender. “A gorgeous woman like you can't be paying for her own drink,” he protested in mock-surprise.

She looked over and smiled. Then she sighed dramatically and said, “I'm afraid so. Chivalry must be dead.”

“Endangered but not extinct,” Banri said and handed a bill to the bartender. Yona pulled her hand back and tucked her money into the top of her dress with a coy smile.

“Thank you,” she said. “I'm Yona.” She held out a delicate hand with a glinting gold bracelet on it.

“Banri,” he answered, taking her hand and theatrically kissing the back of it.

She giggled, a light, airy sound. When she tilted her face down a little and batted her lashes at him, her smoky makeup dramatized the violet color of her eyes.

“Banri, what can I do to thank you for keeping chivalry alive?”

It was an opening, and Banri knew it, but experience had taught him that a little more build-up generally meant less suspicion and resistance later. “Come back to my table with me and tell me about yourself,” he suggested smoothly.

The typical response to his dragging it out was surprised pleasure, but he could've sworn she looked the tiniest bit disappointed. A good sign if he'd ever seen one.

“I'd love to,” she said.

He led her back to his table, on the edge of the area filled with serious-looking men in business clothes. When they were sitting, just a breath of space between their thighs, Yona traced a finger around the base of her glass nervously. “Is something wrong?” Banri asked. Best to smooth over any reluctance as quickly as possible.

She looked up, apparently surprised. She bit her bottom lip, in what was maybe a bit of a calculated movement, but Banri wasn't opposed to women who could use their sexuality to their advantage. In fact, it made his job easier. “It's nothing really,” she said. “I was just wondering what made you look at me, of everyone in here.”

“Well, you don't exactly fit in,” Banri answered honestly. Yona touched her crimson hair, self-consciously. “The hair, yeah, but I was talking more about everything else.” He gestured at her from top to bottom. She tilted her head to the side. “Not to be rude, but it's pretty clear you've got more money than anyone else in here,” he said bluntly, silently adding _except the boss._

He half-expected her to be offended, but she laughed. “And here I thought I was being so discreet.”

He grinned wolfishly. “Even if your dress didn't look like it cost about a month's rent for most of these suckers, it would still be obvious, honey. The way you hold your whole body screams wealthy.”  
“Been looking at my body, have you?” she teased, leaning into him.

“I'd be fool not to,” he answered.

Her flirty smile slipped. “So it's my money that made you approach me?” she asked, pouting slightly.

He shook his head, and used his well-practiced line. “It's just what made you stand out. It was that gorgeous smile that made me need to talk to you.”

Her eyes met his. He saw the beginning of some sharp emotion in them. Then she was kissing him, so suddenly and enthusiastically that he had to put a hand behind him to keep from falling over. He pulled his other arm around her, hand resting on the silk at the upper curve of her ass.

Her hand, which had initially braced her against the table, moved to curl around his head.

Suddenly, she yelped and pulled back.

She squirmed away from him, trying to slip out from the dripping drink her eager hand had dumped over the table and half onto her lap. “Shit!” she swore, in that light, melodious voice. It sounded illicit around such a harsh word. Banri found it incredibly hot. “God, I'm such a klutz,” she said, pouting again. Her smeared lipstick was only heightening the sexy factor. “I'm so sorry. Do you mind if I go to the bathroom and try to clean this up?” She brushed a thumb over his mouth, leaning in until she was almost kissing him again. “I promise we can pick this up as soon as I'm back,” she whispered.

He nodded.

She was gone for only a few seconds, and came back with her dress still soaked in alcohol. “The bathroom's closed,” she huffed.

Banri didn't hesitate to use the opening this time. She'd made a move; she was firmly entranced. “There's a private bathroom this way,” he said, standing and pointing through the maze of blazer-ed men. “My boss uses this area, but he won't mind.”

“You really are the last chivalrous man alive,” she said sweetly and followed him.

He led her past all of his colleagues, a few of whom looked up and gave him subtle approving looks. He pulled her down a separate hallway, where the bar noise dulled and they were out of sight. He pointed to the door at the end of the hall.

She thanked him and went to it. He gave her three seconds, then followed. He caught up just as she opened the door to the dark alley beyond, and looked back at him in confusion. He slammed one hand over her mouth and the other tightly across her waist to lift her off the ground. She struggled, but she was far too weak to fight him off. He and the two men waiting outside had her tied up and in the back of the van within seconds. They drove off.

 

*

 

She glared at them when they opened the van door, but offered no resistance as they dragged her inside.

“Good choice, Banri,” the shorter accomplice said as he took hold of her arm, trapped behind her by her duct-taped hands. “You sure have an eye for 'em.”

“Yeah, this alone is worth a small fortune,” the taller agreed, jingling the bracelet he'd pulled off her wrist. He waited by the door as lookout, but called after them, “Can't wait to see what her loved ones are willing to pay for her safe return.”

“Probably enough to support a small country,” Banri boasted as he led the way up the stairs. He pulled open the door to the holding room. She glared at him as the shorter, Genzo, pushed her past Banri into the room. The fury in her eyes was so intense that he felt goosebumps ripple across his skin involuntarily.

As soon as she was past the threshold, in sight of the half-dozen other women stashed inside, Banri heard Genzo let out a sound between a whimper and a groan. He looked around the door just in time to see Yona's stiletto lower to the floor, and Genzo slump to the ground, dazed and sporting a bloody nose.

“You little bitch!” Banri exclaimed, diving for her. Instead of dodging backwards, as he'd expected, she lunged toward him and slammed her head up into his chin. He bit down on his tongue, coppery blood spurting in his mouth and white starbursts floating in his vision.

He stumbled back, and she followed, shoving her shoulder into his chest. He took another step back, and felt his stomach drop out when his foot hit thin air. He tumbled down the stairs with a shout.

Yona stood at the top of the stairs and watched for a moment with a blank face. When Genzo grunted as he staggered to his feet, she flung around. His arm was already drawn back when she faced him, and she didn't have time to dodge before his fist collided with her cheek and jaw. On a self-preserving instinct, she used the sideways momentum of his punch to slip away from his reaching arms. Her neck and the side of her face throbbed. The vision in her left eye was blurred. He charged at her again, arms out. She ducked under the left one and kicked him in the side with the point of her heel. He barely caught himself from toppling down after Banri by landing a fist around the handrail.

As he spun around, Yona wriggled one hand out of her bonds with a wince, then shook the tape off the remaining hand. She ripped the gag off her mouth.

“Let us go,” she demanded.

Genzo laughed. Blood from his nose spattered the ground. “Make me, little girl.” Then, unnerved by her blazing glower, he drew his gun from the holster on his hip. Fear flickered in her gaze, but she didn't back down. “Eiichiro!” he shouted, in the hope that being reminded of her third obstacle would break her defiant spirit.

“What is it, Genzo, you useless lump?” Eiichiro shouted back, creaking open the metal door.

Genzo's eyes flashed over the balcony in an automatic glare. He didn't realize his mistake until his hand made an awful cracking sound and the Sig in his hand was ripped away. He didn't have time to do more than shout at the agony ripping up his arm before a dull thump made his vision fade and go black.

“What the fuck?” Eiichiro said as he took in the bodies of his comrades, one sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, the other slumped over the railing on the balcony above him. He met the gaze of the tiny redhead in the slutty red dress over the gun she pointed down at him. “How the fuck did you get free?”

She didn't answer. She kicked off her heels and slid down the stair rail so quickly that Eiichiro didn't have time to react before she'd landed barefoot in front of him, gun still pointed steadily in his face. “I don't like shooting people. So you can tie yourself to that pole over there,” she said calmly, nodding to the cement structure behind him, “or we can fight until you're unconscious or dead. But I need you out of the way so I can get these girls out of here safely.”

Eiichiro had always thought himself brave. He knew his limits, sure, so he wouldn't dream of challenging the much larger and smarter Banri, or do anything to upset the boss. But he'd never thought a barefoot woman who barely came up to his elbows would pose any kind of threat.

The look in this girl's eyes, though, was enough to make him pause. At least until he realized what would happen to him if the boss found out he'd escaped unharmed while the keys to collecting their ransom income were filed out the door.

“I'll take my chances,” he said, with more confidence than he felt. He'd never been like Banri, stronger and smarter than everyone else, so he'd had to rely on force of will often enough that he knew what a powerful weapon it was. That was how he knew, from her hard eyes and clenched jaw, that this girl's will could kick his ass if he wasn't careful.

Yona shrugged. She pointed the gun above his head and fired a deafening shot. Eiichiro looked up, expecting to find a chandelier or something falling on him. The only thing above him was the cement ceiling, crumbling bits falling on his head from the bullet hole. He blinked as his eyes watered against the intruding gravel. He looked back down, a taunt on his lips.

Yona was gone.

He fumbled to draw his own gun, swiveling to find her. His vision was still wobbly, and he blinked several times. When that didn't work, he closed his eyes and rubbed them thoroughly with his gun-free hand. When he reopened them, Yona's vibrant hair had appeared directly in front of him, too close for his gun. She wrapped one arm and the opposite hand around his outstretched arm and jerked, just as her knee jabbed into his groin.

The effect was that he doubled the pain in his arm when he recoiled and cried out. He crumpled to the floor. His hand reflexively dropped the gun, and as soon as he realized that, he knew it was over.

The incapacitating pain in his arm was compounded again when Yona pulled him by it, dragging him along the floor. He thought she was just trying to hurt him more until he felt a sticky length of duct tape squeezing his wrists together around something cold and smooth.

Eiichiro's vision was fuzzy again, partially from the dust in his eyes, and partially from them watering unwillingly against the blazing agony in his arm. But he watched as Yona moved out of his reach, with the guns, and pulled something off a strap on her upper thigh. When she flipped it open and put it to her ear, he realized it was a phone.

“Hak,” she said into the speaker, “I found them. You can come now. I know exactly where we are – it's the back half of the empty storefront in that–” She broke off, listening, then rolled her eyes and said, “Yeah, that's the place. And will you calm down? Everything went just as planned.” She listened some more, her purpled jaw clenching at whatever the person on the other side was saying, before she said, “I'll see you in ten, jerk,” and hung up.

She spent the interim taping Banri to the stair rail where he'd fallen and Genzo to the railing on the balcony. Then she went into the open holding room.

There were six other women inside, all tied to bars on the walls by their hands. Their gags and ankle bonds were duct tape, the same as what Yona had been bound with, but the bonds on their wrists were made of thin wire, like guitar string. Yona winced in sympathy. They stared at her, evidently too afraid to hope.

She smiled gently at them and knelt to untie the first one's hands. “It's going to be okay now,” she said. “We're going to get you all home.” She looked around and found the one with long chestnut hair. “You're Aika, right?” Eyes wide, the woman nodded. “Your brother has been worried about you. He helped us find these guys – we've been trying to pin them down for quite a while.”

Aika's eyes welled with tears at the mention of her brother.

Yona finally had the first captive's hands undone, her fingers raw from pulling at the rough wire. The woman rubbed her wrists, then pulled her gag off. “Who _are_ you?” she demanded in a raspy voice. She ripped and wiggled until the tape fell from her legs. “You were _looking_ for these bastards?” Yona started on Aika's bonds, and the freed woman took up another set.

“Just someone who doesn't like innocent people getting hurt. My name's Yona.”

Yona had Aika free. Her fingers started bleeding from the wire. The one with the raspy voice soon had a third free, and each of them set to freeing their fellow captives.

An olive-skinned woman repeated her name in a voice like she knew what it meant. Yona watched her warily.

Luckily, the raspy-voiced woman Yona had freed first cut over her with a skeptical, “Did you really beat those guys all on your own?”

Yona grinned. “Not really. They did most of the work for me.”

The whole group stared at her, the last two pulling ropes off their ankles. There was Aika and the olive-skinned woman who knew the name Yona, the raspy-voiced one, a woman with short hair and a split lip, and a pair of heavily freckled women who Yona thought might be sisters. The freckled two hugged, and Yona realized that one of them was even younger than her – still a child, really.

“Princess!” a deep voice called from below. The other women gasped and scrabbled to get up. The older freckled one put her little sister firmly behind her.

“It's okay,” Yona assured them. She stood, brushed off her skirt, and headed to the door. Halfway out, she caught sight of her wobbly reflection in the metal and grimaced. Her face was dark and swollen on the left. Hak was not going to be happy.

“Hak,” she greeted coolly, leaning against the bannister. She would never say it out loud, but she was kind of hoping Hak would be impressed by how easily she'd taken care of everything.

Hak looked up from the first floor, clearly making sure she was all in one piece. He scowled as he took in her face. Then he sent her a leer that had her blushing before he even opened his mouth. “You might not want to stand above me in such a short skirt, Princess. Though I can't say I'm complaining.”

“You are – you are impossible!” she huffed. She shifted uncomfortably, but didn't move. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Well, until he lifted one eyebrow and smirked like that. Then she fled back into the holding room, under the pretext of getting everyone up and out.

“We're going to take you all to your families, okay? But first we need to treat your injuries.”

“You can't take us to the hospital,” the raspy-voiced woman said. “They'll want to tell the police, and–”

“The police are in with the gang,” Yona finished. “I know. We're not taking you to a hospital, I promise. We've got something much better.” She grinned. “His name's Yun.”

“Yun and Kija will be here in a minute,” Hak added from behind her. The little freckled girl flinched at his deep voice. His eyes fluttered to her, and he paused in the act of entering the room. He leaned back against the balcony instead, in sight of Yona.

Yona turned her back to him, conscious of how carefully he was scrutinizing her. She spoke with the women, calming them, telling them everything would be taken care of. The little freckled girl flung her arms around Yona's waist and buried her face against her shoulder. Yona hugged her back.

Yun came a moment later, Kija behind him carrying a huge bag full of medical supplies. Yun wanted to treat them right there, but Yona firmly disagreed. She sent Hak and Kija to move all three assailants as far out of the way as possible. She and Yun then led the anxious women outside in pairs, carefully standing between them and the unconscious bodies of their kidnappers. They sat in the grass of a small park across the street, illuminated only by the streetlights.

Yun set to examining and bandaging them, and Yona watched as his calm, earnest demeanor won each of them over. Once he'd assured himself of Yona's safety, Kija sat quietly, hands on his crossed ankles, gaze on the ground. As their fear faded with each minute of freedom, and as they saw how Yona and Yun interacted with them, the women welcomed both Kija and Hak more easily.

In fact, Yona had to hold back a grin when the little freckled girl – Kiyoko – hugged Hak just like she'd hugged Yona, burying her face in his ribs because that was as high as she reached. His eyes went wide. Clearly panicked, he looked up and met her gaze. Yona had to throw a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggle. He glared, looked down at Kiyoko uncertainly, and patted her head.

When Kiyoko let go, blushing, and ran back to her older sister, Kana, Yona couldn't help but smile at Hak. He scowled in return and shouted, “Yun! Come check the Princess.” Before Yona could protest, Yun was at Hak's side, looking almost as terrifying as the Thunder Beast. “Something's wrong with her wrist, plus the mess on her face,” Hak said. “And I think her vision's messed up.”

Yun nodded.

“Traitor,” Yona grumbled to Hak without thinking. The stricken look on his face made her realize exactly what she'd said. But he'd zipped off to talk to Kija before she could apologize.

“That was dumb,” Yun said. Yona couldn't agree more.

He planted Yona on the ground and prodded her until he declared her wrist sprained, but nothing else seriously wrong. “I can't do much for your face,” Yun said apologetically. “You probably bruised your cheekbone and that'll hurt for several weeks, but nothing's broken, thank God.” He spread something cool and soothing over her face, then sealed a bandage over it. “Your vision worries me a little bit. It's probably nothing, but if it's not better in two days, you _have_ to tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” Yona agreed quickly.

Yun glared. “I could make the Thunder Beast tell me,” he warned. At Yona's relenting sigh, Yun smiled. “Thank you.” He pulled out a hard plastic air-cast. “You're wearing this for two weeks,” he said firmly. Yona didn't bother to protest. She just held out her arm and let Yun velcro the thing to her throbbing wrist. “There. You're done.”

Yona looked around for Hak, determined to take back what she'd said, but he was as far away as he could get, speaking to Aika and clearly avoiding her. Yun cleared his throat next to her. “Kija and I can get everyone back safely,” he said. “Why don't you and Hak deal with the mess in there?” He gave her a knowing look.

Grateful, Yona nodded and helped the girls into the cars Kija and Yun had brought. She promised she'd see them soon, when Yun came back to check on their various, luckily mild, injuries. With that, she ducked out of the car and shut the door. Yun and Kija drove off.

Yona turned to Hak, but he was already across the street and heading back inside. She sighed.

When she pulled open the door to the back half of the storefront, Banri's shouting voice abruptly greeted her with the creative, if not so kind, ways he was describing Hak.

She shut the door quietly behind her. Banri didn't notice her come in. He and Genzo were now also tied to the pole where she'd anchored Eiichiro. Eiichiro was awake, dazed but quiet. Genzo was still out. Banri had evidently woken up from his stair-induced nap, and was now flailing against his bonds and cursing in Hak's face. When he moved past insulting Hak to swearing about her, Yona half-expected Hak to lose his temper and knock Banri out again.

He didn't. He just backed away and stood against the wall. He'd seen her, she was sure, but he avoided her gaze.

Yona sighed, eyes falling to the coffee table. Next to the guns they'd confiscated and the showy bracelet she'd been wearing, there was a legal pad, and a Sharpie. It gave her an idea.

She grabbed the duct tape the captors had used. She went to the table, uncapped the Sharpie, and scribbled out a message.

Hak didn't move as Yona walked past him. She didn't acknowledge him. She took the paper she'd written on and slapped it to Banri's face with immense satisfaction. The distinct sound of duct tape tearing off a roll filled the room as she wrapped the silver adhesive around Banri's head and the paper several times.

Yona heard Hak's soft footfalls as he came closer to read the sharp scrawl covering most of Banri's angrily twisted face. _There's a new gang in town, Murakami Devils. See you soon._ Hesitantly looking at Hak for his reaction, she could see from the tension in his jaw and the careful blankness in his eyes that he too had been unusually affected by the Devils' cruel acts.

Or maybe by her thoughtless comment, she thought dismally.

Banri was back to yelling. She only caught the end of his next phrase – “she never would've gotten the drop on me” – but this one made Hak laugh jeeringly. He flipped the note up from Banri's face and leaned in a little. Whatever his expression was, it was enough to make Banri squeak and cut off mid-insult. “I told you,” he taunted lightly, “people who try to hurt Yona always regret it.” He tapped the bottom of Banri's chin, as though to remind him of her headbutting him. Then Hak flipped the paper back over the gang member's face and grinned proudly at Yona.

Yona felt her heart flutter and the guilt in her gut unknot. If he was bragging about her, they were fine. Hak was _proud_ of her. She couldn't help but grin back. She could take on the rest of the Murakami Devils all at once if Hak kept looking at her like that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw this Pinterest prompt:
> 
> Person A is powerful, serious face, you do not wanna get on their bad side  
> Person B is cute, kind, everyone can't help but like them  
> Person A always warns people to never hurt Person B or else  
> then Person B is kidnapped for leverage or threatened or something  
> And then Person B turns out to be badass as shit, and just beats them all to a bloody pulp  
> And Person A is just like “I fucking warned you!”
> 
> and this is what happened.


End file.
